


Dream-Like State

by InkgooSupernova



Series: The Winter System [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Age Play, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bucky Barnes Gets a Hug, Bucky Barnes Has Nightmares, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dreaming, Good guy Steve Rogers, Grinding, HYDRA Trash Party, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Bed Wetting, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Inspired by Alexander Pierce should have died slower, M/M, Nightmares, Non-Consensual Hand Jobs, Non-Consensual Touching, Non-Sexual Age Play, One Shot, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sad with a Happy Ending, Short One Shot, Unreliable Narrator, brief mention of injury, no beta we die like men, ruined orgasm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:55:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23436541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkgooSupernova/pseuds/InkgooSupernova
Summary: He was cold, the world a fuzzy blur around him as he curled around himself in the large bed. The bed smelled like Daddy, the soft covers draped over his frail form. His whole form felt so very heavy, like his limbs were made of lead.He was so verycold.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Alexander Pierce, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: The Winter System [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1693231
Comments: 16
Kudos: 260





	Dream-Like State

**Author's Note:**

> This story is based on Lauralot's 'Alexander Pierce Should Have Died Slower' universe. This story features graphic sexual abuse as well as mentions of nausea, vomiting, and implied urinary incontinence.
> 
> Reader Discretion is Advised.

He was cold, the world a fuzzy blur around him as he curled around himself in the large bed. The bed smelled like Daddy, the soft covers draped over his frail form. His whole form felt so very heavy, like his limbs were made of lead.

He was so very _cold_.

He wasn't sure when Daddy had joined him in the bed, shuffling under the covers and pressing his chest against his back, dwarfing him in the sheets of the bed. Daddy moved the covers up to his own shoulders, leaving only his crown peaking out from under the fabrics. Despite his Daddy's warm body and the ocean of covers, he still felt so very, very cold.

Daddy mumbled something, but he couldn't understand. Did Daddy just speak Russian? Daddy always spoke English, didn't he? But he was just so cold and tired that he couldn't care enough to focus. A sinking feeling of dread began to tie knot after knot in his tummy as his Daddy pulled him closer to his chest, pressing him tight against his skin like he could osmose him into his body so he could never escape. He could feel a blunt pressure press against the back of his leg just below his bottom. The building dread in his tummy crept up into his chest, wrapping its sinuous tentacles around his lungs and heart in a threatening, gentle embrace.

He felt the sheets encasing him shift as Daddy snaked a free hand between the two of them, slipping two fingers beneath the waistband of his pajamas and tugging them down just a centimeter at a time until the elastic surrounded his legs just above his knees. He didn't want this, but what better did he know? Even under the mass of blankets and body heat, the cold air lapping at his sensitive skin forced a shiver to rip though his body.

He tried to scream as he felt the blunt pressure of his Daddy's cock press against his bottom, the scream nothing more than a silent hiss of air. No matter how hard he tried to scream or cry, nothing but air came out. Daddy snaked his free hand around to the front of his body, taking the limp bundle of nerves and sensitive skin between his legs in his large hand. A sensitive, almost good, too much, absolutely awful feeling coursed through his veins as he felt the head of Daddy's dick press against his hole. The world felt horribly blurry and faded as the suffocating sheets shifted with the movement of Daddy's hand stroking the warm too-much feeling and his hips grinding against his body. The grip on his lungs and heart turned into a bear trap's bite, crushing his vital organs in an amazing, confusing, sickened panic.

His body tensed as he cried out like a wounded bear cub, spilling over in his protective padding-

...Protective padding?

He sat up in his bed, his skin sticky and so very cold, a thin layer of sweat clinging to his body. His breathing, hard and panicked, was the only noise that filled the dark, barely moonlit room. He could feel the uncomfortable sticky fluid pressed against his body, a surge of nausea threatening the back of his throat.

"Bucky? You okay?" Daddy's groggy voice piped up, leaning up from where he was peacefully sleeping.

He didn't remember screaming, nor moving, nor puking up what little was left of his dinner from just a few hours ago. But when he finally recognized where he was and who he was with, he was on the other side of the room, a rug-burn scrape stinging the skin of his knee, the acidic stench of chime stuck to his sleep shirt from his shameful display he simply could not remember.

Daddy was sitting a little more than arms distance away from him. It wasn't old Daddy. Old Daddy is dead, this was new Daddy. He was in the tower.

He was _safe_.

Daddy could see the sudden spark of lucid thought in his eyes, his expression softening while still betraying his concern.

"Oh lamb, did you have another bad dream?" What was the point in asking? When did he ever _not_ have a bad dream?

Despite himself, he sniffled back his emotions- crying was a manipulation- and nodded his tired head.

"...'m sorry Daddy..." He barely breathed out, so deeply ashamed of himself. He was tired and stinky and sticky and horrible and rancid and disgusting and sinful and **bad**.

"Hey, no," Daddy's gentle but stern voice broke through the voice in his head that just wouldn't leave him alone. "There's no need to be sorry, pal. Bad dreams happen, I just want to make sure you're okay. That's the most important thing."

He tried not to cry. Crying was a manipulation. Crying was what bad boys do. He couldn't cry after he had already spilled without permission and wasted his dinner and woke Daddy up and was such a bad bad _bad bad BAD **BAD**_ -

He only noticed the tears streaking down his face when a quiet sob ripped him from his thoughts. Daddy looked so very hurt. He deserved it, Daddy would hate him now. He would send him away for being the worst little boy in the universe.

But Daddy held his hand out to him, palm up like he was a cornered, frightened animal.

"It's okay lamb, I'm right here." Daddy whispered, so calm and warm and nice and _safe_. Daddy was safe.

He couldn't help crawling towards his Daddy, despite how horrible he had been and how rotten and unpleasant every single square inch of his body and soul felt. He leaned his head into his Daddy's chest, feeling his warm, strong arms wrap around his shaking form. He cried. 

He cried and he cried and he cried until he was sure there wasn't a drop of _anything_ left in his body.

The deep orange sun was just barely peaking through the window when he finally sighed his last breath of anguish from his exhausted lungs, his body limp and pliant against his Daddy's strong chest. He felt Daddy's fingers running through the hair on the back of his head, not pulling or tugging or _yanking_. Just soft, gentle, comforting strokes.

It was _so comforting_.

"Here lamb," Daddy's voice gently shook him awake, he hadn't realized he had begun to doze off. "Let's get you cleaned up. If you'd like, since you had such a rough night, you can sleep in a little bit if you like. Does that sound alright?"

He rolled the thought around in his now mostly quiet head, wrapping his arms around Daddy's neck as he was lifted from the ground like he was feather-light. He tucked his head into the large shoulders beneath him as he was carried to the bathroom.

"...Can y'u stay with m', Daddy?" his sleepy voice came out as barely a whisper against his Daddy's shoulder, but it was all his exhausted body could manage.

"Of course I can, pal." Daddy hummed, the vibration of his voice a soothing reverberation that settled his very existence.

He barely heard the 'I love you' that passed from his lips against his Daddy's shoulder, but he felt the way his Daddy held him just a little tighter.

"I love you too, lamb."


End file.
